I have a dream that my children’s children
Will know a ladybird, a tadpole, a cricket, a slow-worm.
That they will know what it is to watch the moon glide her silent way through an embroidery of bright stars,
while the owl hoots and the hedghogs shuffle.
I have a dream that my children’s children,
will swim in clear seas, and know the joy of blue flying free,
and will look down to see they are accompanied by fins flashing in the sparkling light.
I have a dream that my children’s children,
will eat simply and tasting and appreciating every succulent bite,
that they will know the tree that grows their apples, and the soil, rich, deep and fertile, which shares her wealth.
I have a dream that my children’s children will have friendships which feed their souls,
which dance with them in joy and hold them in sorrow,
reaching out across the world.
A world, in which I dream for my children’s children,
that hunger and war are mere fictions in history books,
where people have learned the power of listening and sharing,
a world where it is understood that for one to starve is for all to be impoverished,
where all humans, plants, animals have food, clean water, shelter and safety.
I dream a world where communities flourish,
where the elders are cared for by those who know and love them,
and where the whole village, really does help raise a much loved child.
I have a dream that life is slower, more peaceful, where my children’s children will have time to
lie on daisies and watch their pink hearts open while the bees bows.
I have a dream that my children’s children will breathe unpolluted air
and drink from streams untouched by poison or chemicals.
I dream that they live in a world where all voices are heard,
with open, curious ears,
regardless of gender, race, religion or class.
I dream that my children’s children will learn in places of wonder,
supported by people passionate about their fields,
where they can engage their bodies and their emotions,
as well as their minds,
where they can learn what they need,
when they are ready,
and when what matters is that they learn what has meaning for them,
without fear of comparison, or testing or judgement or blame.
I dream that my children’s children will feel safe on the streets,
in the parks and the woods,
and in being themselves, in their own skins, being enough.
I have a dream that when my children’s children are parents,
that they do not have to chose between seeing their children or work,
that parenting is valued and supported,
that people feel safe in their homes.
I have a dream that the rainforests will be flourishing,
that they have re-orchestrated more beautifully than before,
that the soaring, towering trees my generation has planted,
have stabilised the seasons and the water cycle.
I have a dream that my children will tell their children,
how they can’t believe we used to drive in old diesel cars,
that we travelled for meetings before we learned to do them on-line.
I have a dream that my children will remember our old oil boiler and our undeveloped vegetable patch,
how they will laugh to think of all the plastic bags and plastic cups and plastic food we ate.
I have a dream that my children’s children will never know someone who self-harms,
or dreams of suicide,
or has panic attacks about their exams.
I dream that my children will tell their children,
about the map we have on our wall,
and how over their life time,
those borders and boundaries seemed to shrink,
as we all worked together to support our planet back to health.
I dream that my children will tell their children
that 2020 was the year it all changed,
that before that there was Greta and David Attenborough but they were just on screens.
I dream that my children tell their children,
about how covid made the world turn,
how the corporations greened and how the citizens learned
what mattered to them most,
how governance re-configured to serve the planet not the few.
I dream that although my children will have stories of chaos and confusion
they will tell tales of resilience, courage and connection,
with which to regail their children about how the great turning came to pass.
I dream of my children’s children looking at old footage and photos of
chimney stacks fuming,
of street dwellers,
of barren forests,
of plastic strewn beaches,
of stressed families,
of children without school dinners,
that they are glad that in 2020 the world turned
so that they didn’t have to live with these things.
I dream that they will look at these photos and this footage and not recognise it as their world,
that the images will seem,
as the holocaust camps
seem to me,
so glad that the world changed so
they weren’t me.
I dream that my children will have stories of the roles they played in
re-weaving our connections with nature
understanding that without the planet
human life fails.
I dream that they have tales to tell of how we finally understood that greed and consuming was its own kind of hell.
I have a dream that when my children’s children have children,
the world will never have been more peaceful,
more radiant and well.
I have a dream that my children and their children will be proud of me when I am long gone,
that they will know I played my very small part
in bringing the world back to health.
I dream that my children and their children will look back and see that
those of alive in 2020 woke up, finally,
to how bad things had been.
I dream that they will see how we made changes we couldn’t have imagined,
how we gave up our cars, our flights, our meat, our shopping, our need to be other than we are,
how we planted out gardens with vegetables and pulled up our plastic lawns.
I dream that they will see how the leaders of corporations, of schools, of charities of families,
played their part in changing the fuels they used,
the investments they made,
their ways of working,
their supply chains,
I have a dream that when I die,
I will die knowing I played my part,
in creating a world,
where my children’s children,
your children’s children,
their children’s children,
whether animal, human, insect or flying,
where all life can thrive.
What is your dream?
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